


It's cold in the nameless city tonight

by orphan_account



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Ashton-centric, Band Cuddles, Crying, Cuddles, Grumpy Ashton, I can feel the love, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sad Ashton, i just didn't know what else to write so i just stopped, lots of love, maybe i'll add another chapter someday, the best kind of cuddles, this has a weird ending and im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:12:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4674794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Random grumpy Ash runs off during tour and worries the boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That bloody pigeon

“Wakey-wakey Ash. It's time to get up baby.” I place my hand rubbing over Ashton's shoulder where he's curled up, facing away from me, on our bunk. He just shakes off my touch and scoots further into the bed and I frown. Something must be up with him today.

I lean forward and press my lips ever so slightly to the back of his neck, but he just moves away again, this time sitting up and glaring at me. “Ash?” Instead of telling me what's wrong, he just pushes past me and jumps down.

“I'm having a shower.” He says shortly, grabbing his wash bag and a towel from the bunk below ours and stomping his way to the tiny bathroom.

“Can I join?” I ask, my voice half cheeky, half concerned. He just slams the door behind him and locks it. I pout and walk through to the back room, falling onto the sofa and frowning to myself and crossing my arms.

 

“What's up Lukey?” Calum asks, looking up from his phone where he's in one of the corners of the large sofa. He notices Luke's expression, quickly pocketing his phone and crawling over to the youngest, wrapping himself around him.

“Ashton's being grumpy today for some reason.”

“Well, you know how he gets sometimes.” Calum replies, snuggling his head into Luke's neck.

“It's not usually this bad though. He's being really mean Cal.”

“It's okay Lukey, he'll be okay in a bit. You know him, he can never stay mad for long.” Luke agrees and Calum detaches himself from Luke, returning to where he was sat before.

Mikey and Ash both come to the door of the back room at the same time, and instead of being his usual adorable, courteous self, Ashton just pushes past Mikey. Stepping through the doorway and rubbing his hair with his towel. Michael scowls but doesn't say anything as he plops down next to Calum, leaving only a space next to Luke for Ashton to sit in.

As soon as he's next to him, Luke's scooting closer to Ash and placing a hand on his thigh. “What's up Ashy? What's got you in such a mood today?” Wrong thing to say.

“For fuck's sake Luke, I am not in the mood. Who the hell do you think you are?” Ash yells, springing up from the sofa and standing in front of Luke, suddenly making the younger feel very small.

“Well, something's obviously gotten to you.” Wrong again.

“Oh for God's sake Luke just fuck off. Fuck you, fuck all of you.” He practically screams, grabbing his phone and speeding to the front of the bus. He leaves quickly and loudly through the door near the empty drivers seat, as they were parked outside of the arena for the day before the concert.

“Shit.”

 

Ashton speeds down the unfamiliar road, turning corners and following random signs until he is completely lost and completely confused as to where he is. Hell, he doesn't even know what city he's in.

Eyeing a Starbucks down the road, he heads towards it, hoping to at least get some decent tea. Luke was right, something is up with him, making him grumpy and angry at anyone and anything. He just has no idea what. Maybe it's just because he hasn't had breakfast yet, but he doesn't feel like eating anyways.

So he gets into the coffee shop, getting his tea and sitting up on one of the stools and immediately logging on to the free wifi. He scrolls through his twitter feed for a bit, stalking random fans and favoriting some angry tweets, just cause he feels like it.

His phone starts buzzing with texts and calls but he just ignores every one of them. He knows that he probably shouldn't because he has to be back in time for the concert tonight and he's stuck in the middle of nowhere, but he just doesn't care about any of that right now. Instead, he downs the rest of his lukewarm drink and switches his phone off, leaving the shop and strolling down some random road.

After what he assumes is about half an hour, even though he's probably wrong, he stops at the entrance to what looks like a massive park. He walks in and finds a nice looking bench to sit on for a while, and just think. He thinks about how rude he was to Luke and his boys this morning. He thinks about what may have put him in this bad mood.

He thinks about how he's getting annoyed at anyone who walks even remotely close to him, _and_ at the wilting flower that's drooping in the grass across from him _and_ that bloody pigeon that's just been staring at him with those beady little eyes since he sat down.

He thinks about how much he hates himself for being so angry right now. How much he hates himself for snapping at the three boys who mean the most to him in the world. How much he hates himself in general actually.

Before he knows it, there are tears stinging in his eyes and he's turning his phone back on to hundreds of notifications from the boys and management and his mum, even Luke's mum tried to contact him.

He scrolls through concerned texts after angry texts and exasperated texts after threatening texts, until he just sighs and locks his phone once more. Even people caring about him is annoying him right now. He doesn't know how long he's been sat on that cold bench which definitely wasn't as nice as it looked and he's definitely lost the feeling in at least one butt cheek and its cold. And all he's got on is a stupid old tank top and some stupid old sweats which probably belonged to Luke at one point or another before he grew out of them.

He stands up finally and wraps his arms around himself, shivering as he tries to find the exit of the park. He longs for one of his boys' arms to be around him, keeping him warm and protecting him against the voices in his head, that still tell him he's not good enough for that. For anyone. Tears pool beneath his eyelids, his trembling a constant tremor beneath his skin.

He hasn't checked the time in a while, but he's sure that it's nearing the start of the concert or the pre-show soundcheck at least. He suddenly wishes he was back on the bus with his three best friends cuddling him and making him tea, instead of all along in a deserted park. But alas, he's the idiot that decided to yell and run off like a five year old instead of staying and letting people help him face a bad day.

He groans in frustration, unwrapping his arms from around himself and lacing his fingers in his grown-out hair, tugging forcefully against the roots. Somehow he makes it back onto the main street he was on before, turning in circles trying to find any clue as to where he could find the bus from here.

But he still has no idea. So he just starts walking again, down alleys and streets and pavements as the sky starts to darken and a cool breeze blows through the nameless city that Ashton's found himself stuck in the middle of. He walks and walks and walks, mindlessly and aimlessly until he finally just gives up, curling up on the floor, back against a vandalised wall.

He sighs. Someone has to find him eventually, right?

 

A car pulls up onto the curb in front of him over an hour later and startles Ash back into full consciousness. The passenger door opens and their tour manager storms out. He looks pissed. He pulls Ashton up by the elbow harshly, short fingernails digging into his skin, but Ashton just complies. The man's yelling something or other angrily as he shoves Ashton into the back of the car, but he just tunes it out, choosing to curl around himself in the back seat instead.

After a short drive, the car is parked beside the bus and Ashton's door is opened. He's ushered out and onto it, the door slammed and locked behind him. He checks the time, nearly at the end of the show. Crap. That's why he's in so much trouble. That and disappearing for 97% of the day.

Ashton collapses onto the nearest sofa to him, closes his eyes and mentally thanks whoever turned the bus' heating system on. He attempts to nap for the hour he has until the boys return, instead of finding somewhere to hide from them or some way to fit himself down the shower drain. He can't sleep though.

He doesn't move when the boys get back on the bus. He doesn't move when all three of them fall to their knees in front of him. He doesn't move when Mikey brushes his hair out of his face and kisses his forehead. He doesn't move when they start panicking that he's not moving.

“Ash? What's going on? Talk to me lovely, we're sorry Ash.” Luke pleads.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Huh?”

“I'm the one that yelled at you, then ran away like a child, then ignored your calls, then missed the concert, then sat on the pavement until someone finally found me, then turned up here and ignored you again. Why are you sorry?”

They're speechless. I stand up and walk calmly to the bunks. I don't get in the one I usually share with Luke, or one of the other boys; I get in the one that's technically mine, face the wall and close my eyes.


	2. A sustained love for coffee

Ashton's lying in his bunk, curled up, covers pulled up over his head making him feel small and insignificant, like he hasn't caused every single thing that's gone wrong today. He doesn't know how long he stays there, cowering in the dark; he knows that it's been a while since the boys returned to the bus.

And he tries not to let it sting that none of the boys have been by to check on him yet because he's the one pushing them away. It still tightens the constant knot that's been making home in Ashton's chest recently a tiny bit though, even if he feels bad for letting it.

He lies there for a while longer and wills sleep to come to take the feeling that he could have a breakdown any second away with his consciousness. Ashton doesn't know when he started feeling this bad again. When it started to be anxiety thrumming through his veins instead of adrenaline, and his hands weren’t shaking just because of his sustained love for coffee.

Ashton tries to ignore it all, ignore what the voices inside his head are trying to yell at him. But it's at least 2am when he decides that no, he can't do this on his own. He tries to get out of bed with the least amount of panicking as possible, but that doesn't end up happening when Ashton gets his feet tangled up in his duvet.

He thrashes about a bit before he finally gets free and yanks the curtain open. He slides down onto his feet but his knees buckle and he slumps to the ground with a resounding thud. He lays there for a moment, his chest heaving as he tries to focus his eyes on the woven carpet beneath him.

When he hears another curtain sliding open, he tries in vain to scramble to his feet, but realises too late that his body isn't feeling like cooperating with his brain any more. Instead, he whines into the carpet when he also realises that he's crying.

“Ash? Buddy, what's up? Why're you on the floor?” Calum's voice is rough with exhaustion and the remains of a nap and Ashton is suddenly reminded that he's not the only one whose getting fucked over by their new schedule. A soft, warm hand is running up and down his back and it makes Ashton whimper because he loves his boys so fucking much.

“Cal.” Ashton's voice is unsteady and high-pitched with tears and is laced with plain _sadness_ , but Calum doesn't point it out. Instead he settles cross legged next to Ashton's head and calls out to the other boys, still stroking the older boy's back.

He hears the door to the back room sliding open as he continues to sob and heave into the carpet, squeezing his eyes shut as the tightness in his chest persists in its efforts to suffocate Ashton by coiling even tighter. His lungs feel heavy.

“Ashton.” Luke breathes out as he sits between Calum and the wall, right in front of Ashton's head, embedding his hands in Ashton's curls as Michael squeezes his ankles and calves. “Ash, we're right here with you buddy. What do you need us to do?” Michael speaks in a calm way, as though he's been in this same situation thousand of times before and comforting Ashton through a panic attack was just second nature now. Which was probably just the case actually.

Ashton sucks in a ragged breath before attempting to speak. “C-can't bre-eathe.” His voice sounds absolutely wrecked, scratching against his throat as it constricts against his lungs attempts of drawing some oxygen into the sad boy's body.

“Okay Ashy, we're just gonna sit you up then, is that alright?” Ashton's bid at nodding is incomprehensible alongside his horrendous shuddering but the boys already know. They always know. They drag Ashton's limp body up until he's cradled between Luke's legs and he's leaning back against the younger boy's broad chest.

Ashton convulses with his sobs and hitched breaths, tears sliding in warm tracks down his flushed cheeks. Michael and Luke grab a hand each as Calum starts to rub at Ashton's chest, talking to him in a calming voice. “Just breathe Ash, we all know you can do it. Just breathe in, then out. Just like you know.”

And he nods because yes, he does know. Out of all of the things that feel out of his control in Ashton's life, breathing is a constant. As long as he's alive, he's breathing, and he's been alive for a good 21 years now so yes. He knows how to do it, so he does, he tries.

“There you go Ash. Just breathe, in and out. There you go.” He smiles under Calum's praise as the younger boy continues to rub at his loosening chest. And despite Ashton probably just looking like he's in more pain, Calum smiles back because he knows. They always know.

Luke's pressing short but sweet kisses to the probably sweaty skin of Ashton's neck, and Michael is squeezing his hand tight and is shuffled so close to the boy, Ashton's sure he can feel the heat radiating out of the guitarist. “Love you Ash, so much. You're okay Ashy. Everything's okay.” Luke's whispering into the warmth of his jaw as Ashton's breathing begins to slow down.

“We're right here with you buddy. Always.” Michael says into his palm, pressing a kiss there and resting his cheek against Ashton's hand as the older boy finally feels like he's not dying any more. He noses at Calum's chest until he wraps Ashton up in a cuddle, pressing the other two band members into the hug as well.

“You better Ash? How're you feeling?” Calum sounds equally worn out and concerned. Ashton just nods into Calum's bare chest as he feels his tiredness roll over him like a tsunami wave. He slumps back into Luke then as Michael propositions the best idea he's heard in a while.

“How about we all grab out duvets and blankets and pillows and make up a big bed in the back room and have us a good old band cuddle. I feel like we could use one right about now.” The boys all laugh and Ashton suddenly feels like all of the weights have been lifted off his shoulders.

“I love you guys. So much. Thank you.” Ashton says, gazing up at each of his boys in turn, smiling fondly. They all return the sentiment and Calum pulls him up by the elbows, steadying him with an arm looped around his waist as he leads Ash into the back room, leaving him to curl up on one of the sofas before going back to help the others with the evening set up.

Eventually, after a quick interlude for a pillow fight between Michael and Calum as Ashton watched on, laughing hysterically, all four boys are cuddled up in the quiet. Only the sounds of soft breathing and the hum of the bus' tires on concrete constant in the air.

Ashton's being cradled gently against Luke's chest, just like Calum is to Mike, Ash and Cal tangled up between them. There are so many pairs of intertwined hands, Ashton doesn't even know where his own have gone, but it's perfect. Luke's lips press against the back of his head and the younger boy nuzzles into Ashton's long curls as Ashton feels him slowly let himself fall asleep.

The next to drift off is Calum, Ashton watching fondly as he furrows his eyebrows and pouts, his head dropping forward the slightest bit as he finally nods off. He watches Michael gazing at Calum just as delightedly, but doesn't get to watch the bright haired boy fall asleep, as the tiredness soon takes him over.

He shuts his eyes as they beckon him to do so, and he shifts infinitesimally so he can rest his forehead against Calum's. He let's out a deep sigh at that familiar burning feeling of home as he burrows down for the night with his three favourite boys.


End file.
